Wants and Needs
by Ryeloza
Summary: What happened after Lynette asked, "Are we happy?" Missing scenes from season one's "Pretty Little Picture."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **This is so not mine, I'm just having fun because I'm a girl and I wanna.

**Story Summary: ** What happened after Lynette asked, "Are we happy?" Missing scenes from season one's "Pretty Little Picture."

**A/n: **This is a refurbished version of a DH fic I posted about a year ago and took down because I wasn't satisfied with it. But now it's shiny and new and hopefully more enjoyable. It's going to be two parts. I can't say when part two will be up, but it will be coming.

**Wants and Needs**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Part One**

"Are we happy?"

Tom looks up, clearly surprised, but she doesn't back down from the question. His point-blank acceptance that Rex and Bree's marriage is falling apart doesn't surprise her—he's always been somewhat off-put by the Van de Kamps' relationship—but to her it's just another slap in the face that nothing is as it seems. Between Rex's announcement tonight, Mary Alice's death, and Susan and Karl's marriage imploding, she's become more convinced than ever that there are no certainties in life.

"What kind of question is that?" he finally asks. She frowns at his dodge and crosses her arms over her chest. He seems to realize that she still expects an answer, so he adds, "Yes. I mean, God, Lynette, you're the love of my life. You know that, don't you?"

Lynette sighs. "I love you too. But that's not the same as being happy. I mean is this how you pictured our married life?"

Tom looks around the room and then his eyes meet hers again as he says, "Well maybe there would be a little less clutter."

"Can you take this seriously for maybe a second?"

"Lynette…"

"I miss the romance," she says honestly. It's a fact that she's avoided admitting like the plague, mostly because it seems like such a cliché; such a stupid, common thing all married people complain about at some point. Either naively or smugly, she isn't sure which, she always thought they'd be above that and it's humbling to realize they're not. "We never go out anymore. We rarely have dinner without the kids. Most nights we fall asleep on the couch watching crappy television."

"Hey, _Boston Legal_ can be very romantic."

Lynette shakes her head and turns away from him, annoyed. Logically she knows that he's trying to make her laugh with his usual dorky charm, but right now she doesn't want to laugh; she wants to be reassured. It's especially irksome because he generally knows her moods better than this and that just further solidifies her feeling of separation.

"Oh, come on." Tom comes up behind her and lays his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugs him off. "Why are you getting so upset?"

"Because you're not listening to me. You haven't been listening all week."

"Look, I'm sorry about the party."

"This isn't about the party."

"We wouldn't even be having this conversation if it wasn't for the party." Lynette rolls her eyes and finally turns to face him again, crossing her arms. She's surprised to see that Tom doesn't look even slightly upset with her. Instead he seems vaguely amused and there is a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You know I completely regretted not going tonight?"

"Yeah, sure. Because of the kids."

"No. Because of you." Tom's arms slip around her and his hands settle low on her back, rubbing her bare skin in a way that makes her crazy. It's an unfair move and it bothers her as much as it turns her on. "Didn't I mention how sexy you look tonight?"

"Tom…"

"I'm serious." He kisses her jaw-line, close to her ear. "When was the last time you wore this dress? It's hot."

Despite herself, Lynette snakes her arms around Tom's neck and sighs. "I bought it for our second anniversary, but if I remember correctly, I didn't wear it for very long."

"Oh, that's right. We had some very spontaneous sex. In the car. Before we even left the driveway."

"Karen McCluskey called the police on us."

Tom chuckles. "You know, I do remember that night. And I also seem to recall that you didn't wear a bra with this dress, right?" He lifts one hand to pull the top of her dress out and stares down to ogle her breasts. "I am right." Lynette shakes her head at him and gives him a small peck, despite knowing exactly what he's doing: distracting her on purpose because he's not in the mood to argue. And even though she needs to make him listen, needs to make him understand, the truth is that she's not in the mood to argue either. Even though it may not be what she needs, it is what she wants, now, in this moment. "And now that I'm thinking about it," Tom continues, unaware of her internal struggle, "didn't you forego panties that night too?"

The hand that just played with the neckline of her dress drifts down her body, grazing over her chest, stomach, hip and thigh before tugging up the hemline of her dress. He hikes up the skirt until he can slip his hand underneath it. As he drags his hand up her thigh at an agonizingly slow pace, she finally relents completely, leaning up to plant wet, open-mouthed kisses against his neck in a way that she knows makes him wild. When his hand finally reaches her bare ass he pulls back and grins at her and she's thrilled with her impulsive decision to go without underwear tonight. "God, baby, you drive me crazy."

Her response is lost as he devours her mouth, and as he slides his hand around to finger her, she can do nothing more than moan. Tom has just slipped a second finger inside of her when he pulls his mouth away; he sports a look that is all too familiar to her and she knows immediately that he's not going to give her what she wants quickly. This is about drawing her out slowly—about making her admit that she wants this more than anything else—and she silently curses his roguish side. As his fingers work to push more deeply inside of her his thumb brushes against her clit, making her buck her hips into him involuntarily. He leans toward her, settling his mouth near her ear and whispers, "You're so wet. Is this turning you on?"

Lynette can't respond verbally, so she simply continues to press her hips towards him, trying desperately to increase the friction."You're so impatient," Tom teases. "I think you need to tell me what you want."

With a groan, Lynette drags her hands down Tom's back until they slip into the back pockets of his pants and roughly pull him toward her. "Oh, now that's cheating." He removes his fingers from her and she almost begins to cry in frustration. When he drives her to this level of distraction she loses all of her verbosity and it makes her insane. Usually she's more than happy to return the favor in kind, but tonight she wants him in charge; she wants him to prove how much he needs her.

She barely registers a nip at her neck before Tom begins to kiss her collarbone and then continues his way down her chest. As he drops to his knees in front of her, she leans back against the kitchen table seeking support; she can barely stand. A moment later, Tom hikes her right leg up over his shoulder and disappears under the skirt of her dress. His hands come to rest on her hips and her breath hitches in anticipation.

For an indeterminable amount of time that is just too long, he does nothing but lightly rub her hip bones with his thumbs. Finally he says, "You need to say it." The puff of his breath against her makes her whimper and she has to pull deep inside of herself to whisper, "God, Tom, please." She knows that Tom's smiling and she could kill him for it, but this is her last coherent thought as his mouth goes to work on her. It's amazing—mind-numbing and electrifying and everything she wants right now—but at the same time, some small part of her still knows that this isn't going to fix anything.

The worst part is that she isn't sure that Tom understands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **This isn't mine. I'm just writing this for fun.

**A/n: **Thank you all for the reviews! Most of you review my work really consistently and it means the world to me that you take the time to let me know what you think. I hope everyone likes the second part as much as the first, and please be assured that any feedback will be most warmly welcomed.

**Wants and Needs**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Part Two**

Tom feels completely satiated, euphoric in only the way really great sex can cause, and he's fairly certain he won't be able to move any time soon. For whatever reason Lynette had been in an oddly compliant mindset and they'd had the dirtiest sex he can remember having in quite awhile. Absently, he kisses any inch of her skin in the path of his mouth and from beneath him Lynette murmurs contented little sighs. He pauses, his mouth still on her right shoulder blade, and offhandedly says, "We're going to have to disinfect this table."

Lynette hums in agreement—he can't remember the last time she used actual words and he takes it as a compliment of his abilities—then to his chagrin, braces her hands against the table to push herself up. As much as he wants to use his weight against her and keep her pinned under him, he acquiesces and backs off of her, taking a second to pull up his boxers from where they lay pooled around his feet. Lynette doesn't bother to put her dress back on and he marvels at how sexy she looks strutting around the kitchen naked. After a moment of gawking, he grabs the can of Lysol from her hand. "I'll clean up. You go get ready for bed."

Rolling up onto her tiptoes, Lynette kisses him very briefly. "Thanks."

As Lynette pads up the stairs, Tom starts to spray down the kitchen table, pretty sure he'll have to let the product sit for at least ten minutes before he scrubs down the surface if he really wants it clean. From upstairs he hears the shower start and he sighs; that was another activity he'd hoped they'd do together. Lackadaisically, Tom pulls out one of the kitchen chairs, sits down and props his feet up on another one of the chairs.

He still can't quite believe that Lynette actually asked if they were happy tonight. It was one of those wicked questions that felt like a trap, like there was no right answer, and so he'd sidestepped it as best he could. He's somewhat amazed that his dodges worked. Usually when he pussyfoots around something he puts his foot in his mouth and ends up staring at her cold shoulder in bed, not having mind-blowing sex. It's a nice change of pace.

Truthfully, he knows Lynette's been unsettled the past few months. It's not as though this declaration suddenly came out of the blue. The last trimester of her pregnancy and the first few months after Penny was born, Tom had been able to cut down on his travel for work considerably, and it's only been in the past five months or so that the pace has picked up again. He wishes that she could understand that the time apart is hard for him too, but she seems to think that it's only a challenge for her. If she only knew how lonely he gets in those small, dismal hotel rooms, maybe she wouldn't be so quick to condemn his understanding of the situation. That's part of the problem, of course; she doesn't know. And maybe he should tell her more explicitly, but he doesn't want to spend their time together reliving the loneliness they feel when they're apart.

The sound of the water running stops and Tom takes it as a sign that he's let the table disinfect long enough, so he gets up and scrubs it down thoroughly before shutting off all the lights and heading upstairs. Lynette is already lying in bed, her wet hair twisted up on top of her head, but she throws a lazy smile his way before shutting her eyes.

"You know," says Tom, impulsively letting his thoughts come out even though there's a great chance he won't say the right thing twice tonight. He crosses the room and turns off the light on the nightstand, flopping down on the bed next to his wife. "I am really happy."

Lynette throws an arm over her head and scoots further down under the covers. "Yeah," she agrees sleepily. "You're the man. The sex was great. _Et cetera, et cetera._"

"No, Lynette." Tom waits until she opens her eyes to look at him before continuing. "I am really happy with our marriage. I love you and I love our kids. When I'm here I couldn't be happier. But…"

"But what?"

It's on the tip of his tongue to say that he's miserable when he's gone. That he misses her more than he can really explain. But as he stares down into her eyes—eyes so vivid that even in the dark bedroom he can tell hold an expression tinged with just the slightest hesitation—he realizes with a sudden clarity that none of this is really about him. It isn't about how he feels. It isn't about reassuring her that he loves her. It isn't about what he needs.

"But that doesn't mean that we're happy. That you're happy. Does it?" He brushes the backs of his fingers along her temple as if to push away a strand of hair that isn't there. He so desperately wants her to contradict him and say that she's perfectly content with the way things are. That even though she misses him as much as he misses her that when they're together everything is perfect. But he already knows that that's not the case. She told him before; he just wasn't listening.

"I just need to know," Lynette admits slowly, "that you still love me. Not just because I'm the mother of your kids. Not just because we're married. But because you still see me the way you did when we first met. I don't want to feel like I'm just an obligation that you come home to at night."

Tom leans down to rest his forehead against hers and he shuts his eyes, just breathing in the scent of her for a moment. "Do you remember that night I took you up to the roof of my apartment building and we danced?" He kisses her and then pulls back to stare down at her. "You looked so beautiful that night. And I still see you that way. I do. But I also see you as my wife. And the mother of my children. You are everything."

Lynette snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him back down so she can kiss him again. After a minute, he pulls back and she cups his cheek with her hand. "You always did have a way with words," she says with just a hint of humor in her voice. She runs her thumb over his lips and he kisses it. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

Tom nods and kisses her one last time before she rolls onto her side and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around her and spoon her body from behind. He wants to hold her tonight, to let the steady rise and fall of her breath lull him to sleep. Even though Lynette didn't say so, he knows that words aren't enough. He needs to do more. He needs to show her that he means what he says because it's true. She's his whole world.

And he wants to make sure she never forgets it.


End file.
